


We'll Always Have Harran

by mrpicard



Category: Dying Light (Video Game), Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Blood, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gore, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Star Trek - Freeform, Zombies, qcard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrpicard/pseuds/mrpicard
Summary: "Perhaps I've simply gotten too used to your preposterous schemes to be upset about the fact that I am once again being forced into risking my life on your behalf." Picard and Q are trapped in the City of Harran - and it's all Q's fault. Or isn't it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fan fic does NOT acknowledge "Dying Light - The Following". It is set a few weeks after the ending of the main "Dying Light" storyline and, TNG timeline-wise, shortly before the movie Star Trek Nemesis. 
> 
> A lot of credit for the idea for this story goes to resident Kyle Crane/"Dying Light" expert [Tafferling](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tafferling/pseuds/Tafferling). You rock!

 

**ACT I - SAFE ZONES**

 

****

 

 

 

At first Picard thought it was a dream.

He had gone to bed early the night before despite knowing that, if he went to bed earlier than usual, his dreams would be a lot more vivid and memorable than they usually were. This was why, at first, he didn't even stir when he felt a rather insistent hand tugging at his right shoulder.

"Jean-Luc! Wake up!"

Picard groaned softly - and then, suddenly, the voice registered in his mind and was matched with a face. His eyes flew open and, sure enough, there he was, kneeling beside him, his hand on Picard's shoulder.

"Q...?!"

"Finally." The entity seemed relieved, and yet also somewhat panicked. "We don't have time for your usual grumpy mood and useless questions. We have to leave. Now."

"Q, what are you talk-"

Only now did Picard realize that he was no longer in his bed, the pain he felt in his left shoulder a sudden proof that something was wrong, _very_ wrong. He slowly sat up - and then gaped at his surroundings, at first completely incomprehensive of what he was looking at.


	2. Chapter 2

Until now Picard had been lying on a dirty street that was littered with all kinds of trash, including a rusty screwdriver that his shoulder had used as a rather unpleasant pillow, which explained the pain he had just felt. The air was hot and humid, and the wind that swept through the street brought a strange, sickening stench with it. On the other side of the street two cars had apparently crashed into one another, but there was no trace of their owners. The buildings on both sides of the street did not offer much comfort either: They were as lifeless as everything else seemed to be, their windows broken and their doors smashed in.

"Q, what is this pla-"

"We don't have time!" Q pressed, an urgency in his voice that Picard had never heard before. "Come on! They've seen us!"

"Who?" Picard asked, but then found his answer when he turned his head and saw a small bunch of people approaching.

There was something odd about them, however, and it took Picard a few moments to realize that they were moving in a rather erratic way; their feet shuffling, their arms outstretched, their teeth bared, the expression on their faces a strange mix between blank and murderous.

Picard stood up as quickly as he could and only now did he notice that he was not in his pajamas anymore: He was wearing a tight black t-shirt, camouflage-patterned pants and heavy black jump boots.

He looked at Q, who was wearing a similar outfit. "What is going on here, Q?"

Q was definitely not in the mood for answers; he was already pulling Picard with him, away from whoever it was they were about to face. "We have to _go_ , Jean-Luc!"

Picard looked once more at the approaching mob and found himself forced to agree. Q let go of him and the two of them ran up the dirty street, around the corner - and then froze in horror.

The street before them was filled with the same kind of people they had just seen... and they were just as unhappy about their presence.

Picard looked around for a possible route of escape and suddenly noticed a door that been leaned against a rusty car. Someone had painted an arrow on it that pointed upwards, and Picard followed its direction with his eyes and spotted an upper balcony that belonged to a nearby building from whose top someone had hung a huge bed sheet that had the word SAFE on it.

It was simple but effective - a ramp to safety.

Well, hopefully.

Picard grabbed Q. "This way!"

The entity allowed himself to be pulled towards the car, but stopped when he realized what Picard was trying to tell him. "I can't make that jump! Until a few moments ago I didn't even know I could _run_!"

"Q, this is not the time for an argument!"

 _"_ Jean-Luc _,_ I'm telling you, I can't - aah!"

A hissing person appeared right behind him, and Q took just one look at the hideous face and then ran up the door, jumped, flew threw the air - and just barely managed to grab the balcony's railing in order to cling to it.

Picard shoved the person out of the way, ran up the door himself, jumped, easily reached the balcony's railing and hopped over it. Then he turned around and looked at the approaching mob, relieved that the balcony was too high for them to reach.

"Help!" Q suddenly whimpered - he was still desperately clinging to the railing, his feet dangling in the air.

Picard quickly leaned over the railing, grabbed Q and pulled him onto the balcony where he collapsed, gasping for breath.

"Are you alright, Q?"

"Do... I... look alright... to you?" Q panted angrily.

"Why didn't you use your powers?"

"What... kind of a... stupid... question is... that? Don't... you think... I would have... if... I could?"

Picard rolled his eyes and then shifted his attention from Q to his new surroundings. The balcony was larger than he had originally thought: It actually went on around a corner. He cautiously began to walk towards and then around that corner - and found himself in front of an open doorframe that led into the house. What caught his attention, however, were two headlights on a yellow stand that someone had put up across from the door. They were switched off, but - unlike everything else Picard had seen so far - not broken. What was even more strange was the fact that they were pointed at the wall above the door, not the door itself.

Picard frowned but before he could wonder any further about this strange arrangement, Q had appeared behind him, still panting. "What... what are... these for?"

" _You_ tell _me_ ," Picard retorted dryly and walked towards the doorframe, through it and into something that had apparently once been a living room but now no longer served as such: Most of the wooden furniture had been smashed into pieces and the overturned couch was soaked with something that looked a lot like old blood.

Still, the room seemed indeed safe enough for the moment, which was why Picard turned towards Q, who had followed him inside. "Alright, as much as I dread having to ask: Where am I, what am I doing here, and what the hell happened to the Enterprise?"


	3. Chapter 3

 

"Your little nutshell is safe and sound," Q said, walked into the room and leaned against the wall next to the broken window. "And before you tell me that your inept crew will find you - trust me, they won't even know you're gone unless the Continuum wants them to, but even if they knew it would do neither you nor them any good."

"Why not?" Picard asked suspiciously.

"Because of this place and its location." Q briefly examined the gray t-shirt he was wearing before he continued. "It's difficult to explain to a being with limited capabilities, but try to view it this way: Your universe is located in one dimensional bubble, this place is located in another."

"And the Q can jump around between these bubbles?"

"For the most part, yes."

Picard looked at Q, who was now busy with wiping sweat off his forehead - he was nervous, and Picard had a nagging feeling that he was a lot more shaken by what was happening than he was letting on. "Am I correct in assuming that you didn't come here voluntarily?"

"You're very perceptive, mon capitaine."

"What _is_ this place?"

"The closest analogy is the term 'Punishment Zone'."

"A Punishment Zone? What are you being punished for?"

"I... umm... overdid certain things recently."

Picard raised his hands in a gesture of utter exasperation. "Why am I not surprised...?"

"Really, Jean-Luc, you don't have to rub it in."

Picard somehow forced himself to stay calm. "What you've just told me explains _your_ presence here - what about mine?"

"I'm afraid that's my fault."

"What?"

"A Q who is about to be sent into a Punishment Zone is allowed to request one companion, from any mortal species. And since you _still_ are the closest thing I have to a friend..."

"You chose _me_. How flattering."

"There's no need for your sarcasm, mon capitaine; I honestly didn't have any other options." Q nervously rubbed his hands together. "Besides, this comes with a price for _me_ as well - the punished Q is forced to become the same species as their companion, and the Punishment Zone is then chosen accordingly as well."  

"How terrible for you," Picard said dryly. "What is this whole companion idea even supposed to accomplish?"

"It's part of the punishment. The companion is supposed to help the punished Q realize just _how_ ordinary the Continuum can make them."

"But you already know how 'ordinary' humans are. You were made human once before."

Q waved his hand. "Those were much less drastic circumstances."

"It didn't seem that way for you then."

"Of course not, it was the first time it happened! But, as much as I whined and cried, being a human aboard a 24th century starship was hardly a real punishment. _This_ is more like it."

Picard looked out of the window and at the ocean in the distance. "Where _are_ we?"

"It's called the City of Harran."

"Harran?" Picard echoed. "That place existed on my Earth centuries ago. It was an ancient city in Turkey, if I remember correctly."

"Don't bother trying to look for artifacts," Q said. "Your Harran might have served as some kind of basis for this, but as you can see, the people here have - or rather _had_ \- the technological advances of the early 21st century."

"What happened to them?"

"The Continuum gave me only very little to go on before they placed us on that street - all I know is that a virus outbreak made people turn into murderous zombies. All city exits were sealed and, in typical human fashion, the government was ready to bomb everything. Survivors convinced them otherwise; they managed to send out a radio transmission from here, informing the world that there are still people in Harran who need help. The bombing was called off."

"And then...?"

Q shrugged. "I don't know. As I said, the Continuum wasn't very forthcoming with information."

Picard ran his hands across his face. "Alright, let me try to grasp what I just heard: This place is real, in its own dimension."

"Yes."

"And you were sent here by the Q Continuum as punishment because you couldn't behave. _Again_."

"I wouldn't put it quite li-"

" _I_ would _._ "

Q glared at Picard but said nothing.

"What happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"This punishment," Picard said. "How long is it supposed to last?"

"As long as the Continuum sees fit. A few days, weeks, months, years - I don't know."

"Wonderful," Picard muttered.

Q looked at him, an expression on his face that seemed almost sheepish.

"What about escaping?"

"This is a Punishment Zone whose borders have been re-enforced by the _entire_ Q Continuum," Q said. "We couldn't escape even if I _had_ my powers."

Picard sighed. "You mentioned survivors. Are they still here?"

"I don't know, but I'd say it's possible - _someone_ seems to be taking care of those lights outside."

"Speaking of surviving, there's one thing I don't understand." Picard rubbed his chin. "The Q Continuum wants to punish you but apparently not kill you - then why put you in a life-threatening situation?"

"I told you, for punishment. Since I chose human, the Continuum wants for me to experience what it means to be human under extreme conditions."

"But your human life was threatened once before, you know what it's like -  the Calamarain, remember?"

Q rolled his eyes. "You don't get it, do you? That whole situation you keep referencing was _nothing_. As much drama as the Continuum caused back then, they would have saved me if the Calamarain had gotten to me - a Q was watching over me the whole time. _This_ punishment's level can be compared to the one Amanda Rogers' parents faced."

"They were executed."

"Yes."

"So... if you survive long enough, you get your freedom and your powers back. If you don't, no loss either."

"Exactly."

"You know, for an omnipotent species you Q are remarkably cruel and heartless."

Q put his hand on his chest. "Don't look at me - _I've_ always tried to have as much heart as possible, especially when it comes to humanity."

Picard harrumphed. "I would say _that_ is a matter of perspective."

"You wound me once again, Jean-Luc." Q walked away from the window. "But... I do have to thank you."

"For what?"

"Staying so calm. I expected a lot more anger from you."

"Perhaps I've simply gotten too used to your preposterous schemes to be upset about the fact that I am once again being forced into risking my life on your behalf," Picard snapped.

Q glared at him. "Do you really think I'd do this to you voluntarily? I didn't know the Continuum would pick _this_ place!"

"What difference does it make?" Picard scoffed. "You've risked my life on dozens of occasions, you have no regard for it whatsoever!"

"Trust _you_ to twist everything I do around to make it look hostile!"

"You _are_ hostile!" Picard roared, finally losing his temper. "I could absolutely do witho-"

A loud banging noise, followed by a piercing scream interrupted him.

"What was that?" Picard asked, alarmed.

Q returned his gaze. "I don't know."

A few seconds of silence passed before another scream came, only this time it was much closer. Suddenly a strange shuffling sound could be heard, and it took Picard a few moments to realize that someone had climbed onto the balcony. Steps sounded from right outside the living room, and then someone appeared in the doorway. The person looked a little like the ones Picard and Q had seen before, but the clothing wasn't as torn and dirty, and the face at least _resembled_ that of a human. Unfortunately, this was where the good facts ended, since the open mouth from which blood was dripping clearly indicated that whatever it was that Picard and Q were facing was no longer on the human side of the equation.

"Do something!" Q shrieked and quickly stumbled behind Picard, who frantically looked around for something he could use as a weapon.

The hideous being screamed again and finally charged, clearly intent on tearing its victims apart with its bare hands - and then its head was cut off from behind. Blood splattered everywhere while the head flew sideways, hit the wall and then the floor. The rest of the body remained standing for a few seconds while bolts of electricity ran over it... and then it finally fell, blood oozing out of the stump where the neck had been.

A tall, bearded man with a huge, flickering sword in his hand stepped forward. "What the _fuck_ do you two think you're doing here?"

 


	4. Chapter 4

Picard and Q stared at the man, who seemed completely oblivious to their shock.

"What the hell were you thinking, arguing this loudly?" he asked and kicked the torso of the now very dead person out of the way. "Were you _trying_ to get yourselves ripped apart by Virals?"

Picard was the first to regain his composure. "Virals...?"

The man froze. "Don't tell me you don't know what a Viral is."

"We thought this was a safe place," Picard remarked, deliberately not answering the question - the fact that the sword was still raised in the man's hand was definitely not lost on him.

"Does this room look fucking safe to you?" the man scoffed. "The Safe Zone's _above_ this floor."

"Then why are there lights outside?" Q asked.

"You mean the UV lights? Haven't you heard of Volatiles?" The look on the man's bearded face became even more suspicious. "You're not from Harran, are you?"

"We're not," Picard admitted, carefully eyeing not only the sword in the man's hand but also the huge knife hanging from his belt.

"How did you get here? Did the GRE send you?"

"Our presence here is more or less an accident. And no, we were not sent by the GRE."

The man scratched his face. "Well, whatever it is you're doing here in Harran, it's not my problem - just make sure it stays that way." He put his sword away and turned around in order to leave.

"Wait," Picard said quickly.

"What?"

"We would appreciate some help."

"Doing what?"

"We don't really know anything about this place, so if you could -"

The man turned around again. "Just climb up to the Safe Zone. In there you can think about your plans or whatever it is that you have."

"We need a weapon," Q suddenly blurted out and Picard shot him a glare, which he returned. "Oh you know we do, mon capitaine."

The man frowned. "Captain? You're military?"

"Not exactly," Picard said, resisting the urge to strangle Q.

The man raised his hands. "Okay, okay... I get it that you don't want to tell me why you're here, and I know better than to ask, but can you at least tell me your names?"

"This is Q, and I'm Jean-Luc Picard."

"You're French?"

"Yes...?"

"You sound British."

Picard opened his mouth in order to protest, but before he could say anything, Q had taken over. "Are you going to help us or not? I don't like standing around here while these... these _things_ run around."

"You'll meet much worse things if you don't climb up to the Safe Zone before it gets dark," the man remarked.

"But what then?" Picard asked. "As much as I dislike having to agree with my... umm... acquaintance here, a weapon _does_ appear to be essential for survival in this place."

The man rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll see what I can find tomorrow." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Won't be as good as this, though."

"Where did you get that?"

"At the Tower, of course."

"The Tower...?" Picard echoed.

"Jesus, how did you manage to survive here until now?" The man shook his head. "The Tower is the safest place here in the Slums. You can get almost everything there, including a shower since they finally fixed the plumbing a little while ago." He looked out of the window. "I'd consider taking you there, but not now. It's getting dark, and as I said, you should be in a Safe Zone at night. Come on, I'll show you."

Picard and Q followed him out of the room and back onto the balcony, where he pointed at a little roof above the doorframe. "This way."

"We have to climb up _there_?" Q exclaimed, horrified.

"What did you expect - a magic elevator?"

Q shot the man a glare, but Picard was in no mood for arguments. "I think I can do this."

He eyed the edge of the roof and jumped, grabbed the edge and pulled himself up onto the small roof. Then he looked up and saw what the man had meant: A barred window was right above him, and further up was another balcony.

_'Even **more** climbing. Q will be thrilled.'_

Suddenly a series of loud beeps sounded from below.

Picard peered over the edge of the roof. "What was that?"

"My watch tells me when it's about to get dark," the man replied. "I'd hurry if I were you."

"This is ridiculous," Q complained. "I can't climb up a house, no matter if it's day or night!"

"Q, I strongly suggest we cooperate," Picard said and looked at the man. "Can you help us? We'll be faster that way."

The man sighed, looked at his watch and then back at Picard. "Alright. But I'm not gonna save your ass if you fall down."


	5. Chapter 5

"You're really hopeless at this whole climbing thing," the man said and looked at Q, who had just been pulled onto the roof's balcony by Picard and was now lying on the floor, panting.

Q shot him a glare, slowly got up and was just about to say something when the balcony was suddenly drenched in blue light.

"The UV lights," the man remarked. "Finally."

"You mentioned they've been put up to keep Volatiles away," Picard said. "What exactly _are_ Volatiles?"

"Mutated infected that can literally rip you apart. They only appear at night." The man pointed at a nearby open hatch in the balcony's concrete floor. "That's your home for tonight. You can stay out here as well if you want, but I'd recommend going in - we sometimes get heavy thunderstorms at night, and the rain that comes with them drenches everything in seconds."

He turned away, walked up to the edge of the balcony and looked at the house across the street whose shape was only a vague shadow in the semi-darkness. Then he took a few steps back, clearly preparing to jump.

"Aren't you going to stay?" Picard asked.

"I've got something to do."

"What about the Volatiles?"

"I'm used to dealing with them."

"You haven't even told us your name."

The man glared at him and then sighed. "For whatever it's worth - my name is Kyle Crane." He focused his gaze on the balcony's edge, then ran up to it, jumped off and into the darkness.

"I'm glad he's gone," Q remarked from behind. "He's incredibly rude."

"You should be grateful that he chose to help us," Picard countered. "He could just as well have left u-"

A bright lightning bolt followed by loud thunder interrupted him, and then, only a few seconds later, heavy and thick raindrops began to fall.

Q rolled his eyes. "Great."

"Let's go inside."

Picard walked up to the hatch and only now did he see the stairs that led inside the building. He carefully went down and found himself standing in another living room that looked a lot better than the other on the floor below: The windows had been sealed with wooden planks, the lights were on and the couch had no blood whatsoever on it. The small couch table in front of it was loaded with canned food and heavy water bottles, and two mattresses with sleeping bags on the floor emphasized the fact that this place was intended as one to stay in for a while.

"Cozy," Q remarked sarcastically and slowly closed the hatch behind him.

Picard walked further into the room. "I'd say this is the best we can get under the circumstances."

Q stepped off the wooden stairs. "There isn't even a real bed, and I'm still terrified of sleepi-"

Picard turned around and glared at his companion. "If complaining is all you're going to do in here, I promise I will _not_ be as pleasant a company as you seem to think I am."

Q returned the intense gaze, and for a second Picard thought he looked actually hurt, but then the moment was gone again and the look on Q's face was replaced by his usual attitude. " _You_ might be used to being human _. I'm_ not."

"Then _get_ used to it," Picard snapped. "I won't have you whine and complain all night."

Q pouted but said nothing while Picard sat down on the couch.

Silence.

"Look, Q... I understand this isn't easy for you, but please, could you at least _try_ to pull yourself together...?"

"That's easy for you to say," Q shot back. "You're trained to handle unusual situations like this. I'm not even used to unusual situations - they don't come up very often when you're omnipotent, you know?"

Picard sighed. "Unusual situation or not, we've both got to eat something. Come on, let's see what we've got here, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

Picard slowly opened his eyes, rolled onto his back - and froze when he realized that he couldn't pull at his blanket.

Wha-

Oh.

Right.

There _was_ no blanket.

He was in a sleeping bag on a mattress on a floor that belonged to a living room that was located inside a house that stood in the middle of a zombie-infested city.

And it was all Q's fault.

Q...?!

He sat up quickly.

"I thought you'd never wake up," Q remarked and Picard turned his head in order to look at the entity, who was sitting on the couch, an old-fashioned newspaper titled VOICE OF HARRAN in his hands.

"What time is it?"

"How should I know?" Q muttered without looking up from his newspaper. "Aren't _you_ the one with Starfleet survival training that makes you able to look at the sky and tell the time?"

Picard ignored the insult and glanced at the window in the back of the room. The planks that sealed it allowed for a small amount of light to shine through, enough to determine that the night was over.

He slowly pulled himself out of the sleeping bag and cringed when he noticed his dirty socks. "I really wish there were fresh clothes in here somewhere..."

"Tell me about it - I had no idea just _how_ badly humans start to smell once they've been exposed to a humid environment," Q said and put his newspaper away. "Didn't Crane say something about taking showers in that other place... what did he call it? The Tower?"

"I think so, yes."

In that moment the hatch in the ceiling opened, a pair of black boots appeared, and then Kyle Crane walked down the wooden stairs. "Morning."

"Good morning," Picard said and quickly put his boots on.

"Didn't you say you'd bring us weapons?" Q asked, eyeing Crane suspiciously - the man was still carrying the same weapons as he had the night before.

"Change of plan," Crane said. "Brecken wants to talk to you."

"Brecken?" Picard echoed.

"The leader of the Tower and the guy who's one in charge of all the Safe Zones in the Slums. I spoke to him last night and he said he'd like to see you and have a talk."

Picard slowly stood up. "About what?"

"How to make yourselves useful, for one thing." Crane raised his hand in which he was holding a huge bloody knife. "I cleared the path to the Tower on my way here, so if we leave now we shouldn't run into any Infected, at least not on the roofs."

"Are you suggesting that we jump from house to house?" Q exclaimed from the couch.

"Yes - it's the only way to avoid the Infected in the streets," Crane replied. "And really, Parkour isn't _that_ difficult once you've gotten the hang of it."

"Parkour...?"

"A technique that enables a person to move around using whatever they find in their immediate vicinity," Picard said. "I'm familiar with it - it was invented in France, actually."

"Yeah, the French really came up with something useful there for a change," Crane agreed, ignoring the massive glare from Picard.

"I don't care who invented it," Q complained. "To me this whole idea of jumping from roof to roof and climbing up houses sounds more like a perfect suicide method."

Crane waved his hand. "You won't have to worry about it."

Q frowned. "Why not?"

"Because you're not coming with us." Crane pointed at Picard. "It's just gonna be him and me."

"What?!" Q exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because _he_ has the necessary physical strength," Crane said calmly. " _You_ would only slow us down, and I for one would like to arrive at the Tower _before_ it gets dark."

Q glared at him. "I'm _not_ going to stay here alone!"

Crane rolled his eyes and then looked at Picard. "Is your boyfriend always this insistent?"

Picard felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment. "He is _not_ my boyfriend."

Crane raised an eyebrow. "Really? I could have sworn you two are an item."

"We most certainly are _not_."

"Whatever," Crane shrugged. "Fact is, he can't come with us. You've seen how horrible he is at climbing, and I suspect he's even worse at jumping."

"Don't talk about me as if I wasn't sitting right here!" Q demanded. "I'm not going to say this again: I will _not_ stay here alone!"

Picard sighed. "Mr. Crane, didn't you say that the Tower is the safest place in Harran?"

"Yes...?"

"Then it would make sense to take us both there, wouldn't it? If you take only me you _will_ have to come back for _him_ at some point."

Crane made a face and then pointed his knife in Q's direction while his gaze remained focused on Picard. "Okay - but he's _your_ responsibility. I'm _not_ gonna pull him out if he ends up in the middle of a bunch of Infected."

Picard nodded. "Very well."

"Do I get a say in th-" Q began but stopped immediately when he saw the way in which both Picard and Crane glared at him. "Alright, alright. Fine. I get the message. Suicide it is."


	7. Chapter 7

Picard slowly climbed up the concrete stairs and looked back at Q behind him, who was doing what he had been doing ever since their journey over the rooftops had begun: Gasping for air. It seemed even worse now, which was not surprising since the last part of that very journey had consisted of running down a dirty street, ducking away from Infected who had tried to grab them from left and right. They had finally reached a broad square and to the right had been the stairs that led up to the Tower, one of two huge apartment buildings that seemed strangely out of place, given the nature of the rest of the much smaller houses in the Slums.

Crane jumped over the railing next to them, apparently completely unaffected by their rather exhausting journey. "It's not a good idea to stand around here. The Infected avoid this place usually, but if you hang around long enough doing nothing, they _will_ come."  
  
Picard looked at the open doorway in front of him that was illuminated by UV light - which made sense since it seemed to lead into absolute darkness, Volatiles would probably _love_ it in there - and for a moment he frowned at the lack of additional precautions, but then he saw wires and pieces of what had once been a metal fence on the floor. His gaze followed the wires to a strange box on the wall - and only then did he realize what they meant: The fence piece on the floor in front of the entrance could be electrified if necessary.

"Are... we there?" Q gasped from behind.

"We are," Picard confirmed and eyed the wires suspiciously: If the people of the Tower wanted to get rid of Q and him, this would be the perfect chance to do so.

"Then why... don't we... go in?"

Picard said nothing while Crane jumped onto a wooden plank that someone had thrown over parts of the fence piece in a half-hearted attempt to make it look safer, walked over it and then turned around. "He's right. What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," Picard muttered, his eyes still fixed on the wires.

Crane followed his gaze. "Oh, come on - _really_? Do you think I'd go through all this trouble of getting you two here just to fry you right in front of the Tower?"

"Probably not," Picard said slowly - and then he cautiously stepped forward, walked onto the plank and into the darkness of the hallway.

Q sighed and then followed him without another remark, which was rather unusual, but Picard certainly wasn't complaining. In fact, there were few things to complain about in general: The stench inside the building wasn't as bad as outside, the temperature was a lot less aggravating and it was not as dark as Picard had feared it would be. After a few meters Crane turned to the left and they all walked into another blue UV light area and stopped in front of what had apparently once been part of a stairway but was now only a concrete wall that had the word SAFE  written on it, along with an arrow that pointed upwards.

Picard looked up and saw a man in camouflage standing right on top of the stairway wall, a rifle in his hands.

"Yo Crane," the man called. "Long time no see."

"I was here only last night," Crane shot back.

"Really? I didn't notice."

"You're getting sloppy. Anyway... is Brecken there? I'm bringing the new guys."

"Yup. Should be in his office."

"Good." Crane jumped up and hauled himself over the edge in one fluent move.

Picard looked up once more, jumped, grabbed the edge and then pulled himself up. It took him a few attempts to haul himself over the edge and once he had made it he could not help but look around briefly. To his left, wooden shelves had been set up, stacked with supplies. Further down the dimly-lit hallway he could see a window in front of which a few people were sitting, playing cards.

"Hey, are you coming or not?"

Picard turned around and looked at Crane, who had knelt down and reached out his hand towards Q, who was still standing in front of the wall.

"I thought we were there," the entity said, a blank look on his face.

Picard frowned - apparently Q's silence had not been the result of him concluding that it was better to comply for now: It suddenly seemed a lot more likely that he was in the early stages of severe shock. He quickly knelt down next to Crane and reached out his hand as well. "Come on, Q. It's just one more jump."

Q looked at him and for a brief moment Picard was actually worried he wouldn't recognize him. Then, however, Q seemed to remember where he was, took a few steps back and then ran up to the wall, jumped and allowed for both Picard and Crane to pull him up.

The three of them got up from the floor and Crane - as usual - wasted no time. "Elevator's right around the corner," he said and pointed at the window at the end of the hallway. "Take it, go to the 19th floor and follow the arrows on the walls that say HEADQUARTERS."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Picard asked.

Crane shook his head. "Got something to talk about with Spike down here."

"That elevator... is it safe?"

"Safe enough. Just don't try to get off on any floor below the 17th."

"Why not?"

"You'll meet things you don't want to meet."

"You mean there are Infected in this building?" Picard asked, horrified.

"Yup. We needed some space for newcomers, so we cleared out floors 17 and 18 two weeks ago, but there's no way in hell we're gonna be able to clear out all the others. It takes time and manpower, and we always lose a lot of people. Fighting the Infected outside is difficult enough, but facing a bunch of Volatiles in dark apartments where you can neither see properly nor use anything larger than a small machete is another thing entirely. Clearing out an entire floor is a suicide mission and most people aren't willing to risk their lives for something they personally won't benefit from."

"Reasonable," Q muttered from behind.

"I really gotta go now, though. Spike's waiting," Crane said. "Good luck with Brecken."

"Thank you for taking us here, Mr. Crane."

"You're welcome."

Picard watched Crane leave and then turned towards Q. "Are you alright?"

The entity shrugged.

"I'll take that as a half-hearted 'yes'," Picard said and turned towards the end of the hallway. "Let's go, I really would like to get this conversation with Mr. Brecken over with as soon as possible."

The two of them began to walk towards the elevator in silence, and Picard could almost feel the glances they were attracting. He knew it was reasonable for everyone to be suspicious - he would have felt the same way - and yet it was still rather unnerving, so much that he was glad when Q and he had finally walked around the corner and found themselves standing in front of two doors between which a chair had been set up.

A man with a rifle in his hands was sitting on it, looking at them suspiciously. "Where are _you_ headed?"

"Mr. Brecken," Picard replied.

"Ah, you're the guys Crane told us about." The man looked at both of them from top to bottom, obviously scanning them for weapons. "Alright... just don't even think about causing any sort of trouble up there."

"We have no intention of doing that," Picard assured him.

"Good. Have a nice trip then," the man said, stood up from his chair and opened the left door for them.

Picard cringed when he saw the rather bad shape the elevator cabin behind it seemed to be in, but he knew there was no other choice. He stepped in and turned around, expecting to see Q walking in as well -

The entity had remained outside.

"What is it?" Picard asked.

Q looked at the cabin, the expression on his face one of something that Picard recognized as barely concealed panic. "I don't like this."

"I don't like it either, but we _have_ to go to Mr. Brecken."

"That's not what I mean." Q pointed at the cabin. "I don't like _this_."

Picard frowned - and then he remembered a moment from so long ago that it almost seemed like another lifetime: Worf, dragging a complaining Q towards a turbolift. "Oh. I forgot. You're claustrophobic."

Q looked away.

"Hey, make up your mind!" the man who was still holding the door open complained. "We have only this one elevator, and there are others here who might like to use it, you know?"

"Alright, alright." Picard reached out his hand. "You heard him. Come on, Q."

"If I go up, I won't go down again."

"Fine," Picard muttered. "Now please, step inside."

Q slowly walked into the cabin and the man closed the door from outside. Picard reached out his hand, pushed the button with the number 19 on it and, a few seconds later, the elevator began to move.

Slowly.

 _Very_ slowly.

Q, who had retreated into the furthest corner of the cabin, looked at the buttons with a panicked expression on his face.

Picard eyed him carefully. "Q..."

"You don't have to say it," Q scoffed. "I know you're enjoying the feeling of seeing _me_ tortured for a change."

"That's not true!" Picard retorted. "I actually wanted to make sure you're alright."

Q frowned. "Is this actual concern? From _you_? For _me_?"

"As strangely as it might sound, yes."

"How nice," Q muttered and continued to stare at the buttons. "Are all old-fashioned elevators this slow?"

"Not to my knowledge - it's very likely that this one's being operared with as little power as possible," Picard mused. "Maintaining electricity in this building can't be easy, not under these circumstances."

Q retreated even further into the corner and Picard sighed inwardly but decided to not engage the entity in conversation any further since there was nothing he could do to help, as much as he suddenly wanted to.

He raised an eyebrow when he realized that he had not been lying - he really _was_ concerned about Q.

Strange, indeed.


	8. Chapter 8

Harris Brecken was not at all what Picard had expected. He had imagined an older, regal man with a natural aura of authority, but the person he actually found himself face to face with instead was a young, nervous-looking muscled man whose dirty t-shirt, pants and boots had seen better days.  
  
"Good day," Brecken said and reached out his hand. "You must be that French captain Crane mentioned."  
  
"Captain Jean-Luc Picard," Picard confirmed - it was no use to deny what Brecken already knew - and briefly shook the hand.  
  
"Where's your boyfriend?"  
  
"He decided to wait outside," Picard replied and could not help but worry about this very fact; not wanting to be right in the middle of things _was_ rather uncharacteristic for Q. "Oh, and - he's _not_ my boyfriend."  
  
A hint of a smile crossed Brecken's face but vanished again almost immediately. "I assume I won't have to bother asking just where the hell you two came from and what you're doing here in Harran...?"  
  
Picard said nothing.  
  
"Thought so. Can you at least give me a reason why I should let you stay here instead of just sending you back outside?"  
  
"We did not come to Harran to cause anyone any harm, that much I can tell you," Picard said. "In fact, we ended up here... rather unwillingly."  
  
"Didn't we all," Brecken muttered, walked over to a nearby couch, sat down and motioned for Picard to come over.  
  
Picard did so and sat down as well. "Mr. Brecken -"  
  
"Please, leave out the 'Mister'. It reminds me too much of the fact that people view me as the leader of this place."  
  
"But aren't you?"  
  
Brecken leaned back on the couch. "Not by choice. I keep telling them that I'm not cut out for being in charge, and yet nobody seems to listen. I'm a fucking Parkour Instructor, that's all."  
  
Picard raised an eyebrow. "Then _you_ trained Kyle Crane?"  
  
"Not really, Crane trained himself for the most part. Rahim gave him the usual tutorial when he came here but the rest was all him."  
  
"He's excellent," Picard said, thinking of how easily Crane navigated over Harran's roofs.  
  
"He's the best runner we've got," Brecken confirmed. "Without him, the Tower wouldn't be what it is today. I can't complain about him in any way, although I _do_ wish he didn't have such an asshole attitude sometimes."  
  
Picard smiled faintly. "I guess we all encounter such a person at some point."  
  
Brecken looked at him. "I'm sure you come across plenty of them."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You're a captain - surely you must have the occasional disagreements with your crew...?"  
  
"I do, yes."  
  
"Is your crew here in Harran, too?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What kind of crew is it? Is your rank military or civilian?"  
  
Picard thought for a moment before he answered. "We... umm... we prefer to think of ourselves as explorers."  
  
"That must be amazing," Brecken mused. "Being an explorer, I mean. I'd love to do that myself, it's one of the reasons why I like Parkour so much - you get an entirely new feeling for what's around you. Now, though... well, I guess I'm stuck in a familiar land of hopelessness."  
  
Picard leaned forward, intent on changing the subject - revealing _too_ much about himself and his crew was the last thing he wanted. "Speaking of which... can you tell me what exactly happened here in Harran? The unofficial version, if you have one."  
  
Brecken sighed and leaned forward as well. "The truth is, nobody really knows exactly how this whole Harran Virus thing started. Some say it was because of contaminated food, others say it was a failed military experiment... a few idiots even claim it was aliens who did it, because, whenever something happens that people don't understand it must be aliens, right?"  
  
Picard had a hard time keeping a straight face. "I wouldn't know."  
  
"Neither would I," Brecken remarked, oblivious to Picard's inner amusement. "Anyway, we know that the initial outbreak of the virus happened in Old Town and then things spread into the Slums here. The military sealed the city and trapped us all like animals while the GRE kept us alive with air drops of food and antizin."  
  
"Antizin?"  
  
"You've never heard of antizin?" Brecken asked, surprised. "Have you been living under a rock or something?"  
  
"Something like that, yes."  
  
"Antizin is the only known antidote to the Harran Virus - except that it really isn't one, it only slows things down once you've been bitten. If you stop your antizin injections, you turn. I've seen it happening several times."  
  
"Wait... you mean there are people inside the Tower who have to take this antizin?"  
  
"Sure. About half of our Tower population was bitten at some point."  
  
"You're risking quite a lot by keeping them here," Picard remarked, mulling over what he had just heard.  
  
"I know, all it takes is one person who doesn't take their antizin on time and we'll have one hell of a mess. But then I can't just kick them all out, now can I?" Brecken leaned back again. "I've thought about starting all over again in a smaller Safe Zone, and only with people who haven't been bitten... but I doubt I could really do that. I'm not cut out for my current position here, how could I ever manage to do the same all over again _and_ live with myself for abandoning the Tower?"  
  
"Hmm." Picard rubbed his chin. "You're not as bad a leader as you seem to think you are - from what I can see, you have done remarkably well with this place."  
  
Brecken sighed. "That's actually the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time - all I usually get from people nowadays are complaints." He looked at Picard. "You know what the real problem is? People are too comfortable here now. We're well protected, there's a somewhat decent amount of food and antizin, we have electricity and now running water, too. The major problems have been taken care of, which means people turn towards complaining about minor ones... and that's where the trouble starts. For me, at least."  
  
"I understand your dilemma," Picard said, feeling a sudden rush of sympathy towards the rather desperate-looking young man. "If my crew and I ended up here I would probably be facing the same predicament at some point."  
  
Brecken raised his index finger. "With one difference - _you_ are used to being a leader." He stood up and began to pace. "You know what? Maybe there _is_ something I can do to make all this easier for everyone. I'd need your help, though."  
  
"My help?" Picard echoed.  
  
"Did Crane tell you that Tower residents usually take various jobs to earn their right to live here?"  
  
"He mentioned something like that, yes."  
  
"I have a job for you in mind right now," Brecken said and folded his arms across his chest. "You could help me run the Tower."  
  
Picard's eyes widened in surprise. "Brecken, I only just arrived here, I have no idea how to -"  
  
The young man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I'll fill you in and tell you about the most pressing issues. The rest you'll figure out yourself."  
  
"But you barely even know me...!"  
  
"If there's one thing you need to do here in Harran it's using all the resources that come your way. I did the same when Crane arrived here - I didn't know him either and yet he proved himself worthy almost immediately." Brecken stopped pacing. "Speaking of Crane - there's one more issue we need to discuss."  
  
"What would that be?"  
  
"We can't both sit in this Headquarters apartment all day. If we do that, Crane and the other runners will protest - they're used to risking their lives for _me_ by now but I don't think they'd accept an outsider giving them orders." Brecken sat down on the couch again. "Crane tells me you're good at Parkour, so you have the basics down already. Now all you need to do is tell me that you're good with a weapon that doesn't make too much noise and you'll have a job and a Tower apartment for both you and your boyfr- erm, friend."  
  
Picard frowned. "I... umm... I'm reasonably good at fencing."  
  
"Great. Consider the next sword that shows up here to be yours."  
  
"Brecken, I don't know if I'll be good eno-"  
  
"You won't have to go out every day, only occasionally - just to show Crane and the others that you're ready to do some of the dirty work yourself. I'll ask Crane to train you for a few days and then we'll talk about this again." Brecken reached out his hand. "Deal?"  
  
Picard hesitated - he knew he was getting himself into a lot of possible trouble, but then it wasn't that he had many options: If he declined, both he and Q would most likely end up on the streets of Harran again, helpless against an army of Infected...

"Deal," he said and shook Brecken's hand.


	9. Chapter 9

"188. This must be it." Picard took the key that Brecken had given him, put it into the old-fashioned lock and turned it around.

The door opened somewhat reluctantly, and Picard and Q stepped into a small, furnished apartment that did not look as bad as they both had feared it would: There was a rather large living room, a bedroom, a small kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. It _had_ seen better days, but it still looked comfortable enough.

"What happened to the previous owners?" Q asked and looked around without much enthusiasm while Picard closed the door behind them.

"They were part of the team that cleared out the 17th floor."

"Guess they shouldn't have volunteered for that mission," Q remarked tonelessly, walked over to the couch, sat down and buried his head in his hands.

Picard frowned - he had been prepared for one of Q's typical interior decorating outcries - the apartment's wallpaper _was_ rather outrageous - but the entity was simply sitting there in exactly the same position that he had assumed earlier on a chair in front of the Headquarters apartment, right before he had told Picard to go in and talk to Brecken alone.

"Q? What's wrong?" he asked cautiously.

"What's wrong, what's wrong," Q muttered through his fingers. "I've been turned into a human and imprisoned in a plague city, I've been laughed at, sneered at, dragged over dirty roofs and into a hellish elevator - and now I'm supposed to live in an apartment inside a building whose lower floors are crawling with zombies." He looked up and glared at Picard, who had walked up to the couch. "What could _possibly_ be wrong?"

Picard sat down next to him. "Q, I know how difficult this -"

"Oh, don't even start," Q huffed. "I remember perfectly well how you and your crew mocked me the last time I was punished by the Continuum. I bet you can't wait to do the same again now that we're stuck with each other in here."

"I already told you, I have no intention of doing that," Picard assured him. "If all this goes how I think it will be going, I won't be here much anyway - you'll have this place all to yourself for the most part."

"Whatever possessed you to accept Brecken's offer, anyway? You wouldn't have had to."

"No, but if I hadn't accepted we'd have ended up on the streets again, which was absolutely not an option," Picard said. "And really - as long as we're here we might as well try to help these people."

"Oh that's _so_ you," Q scoffed. "Why do you think the Continuum chose this place for my punishment? It's a hopeless situation, a futile battle against time! There _is_ no hope here, these people are doomed - you _can't_ save them!"

"That is _not_ true!" Picard retorted angrily. "They are determined to survive, no matter how bad their situation is!"

"Do you _really_ believe that? I don't want to know how many of them commit suicide every day!"

"Maybe some of them do, yes, but for most humans there is _always_ something to live for!"

Q rolled his eyes. "Oh, please."

"I _mean_ it, Q."

"That makes it even worse," Q muttered, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

Picard sighed heavily and slowly put his hand on Q's shoulder. "Q, listen to me. I may not be able to fully understand what it means to be stripped of one's omnipotence, but I do realize that it must be very, very difficult. Right now you're suffering from the symptoms of a severe shock, and you need to give yourself some time to absorb and adjust to all this in a safe place - which, by the way, is another reason why I agreed to Brecken's proposal."

Q opened his eyes and looked at the hand on his shoulder and then at Picard. "Jean-Luc, I -"

A knock on the apartment door interrupted him. "Picard? It's Crane!"

Picard stood up, tugged his t-shirt into place and went to get the door while Q continued to look at his shoulder where Picard's hand had been.

A loving smile appeared on his tired and exhausted face.

 

**END OF ACT I**

 


	10. Chapter 10

**ACT II - A Volatile Situation**

 

 

Q looked at the old-fashioned clock that Picard had hung up on the wall shortly after they had moved into the apartment.

What was it that he had said?

" _To make it easier for you to keep track of time._ "

When had that been?

Three weeks ago?

Four?

Ugh, linear time was such a dreary concept.

Despite his rather antagonistic feelings towards the clock, Q could not stop looking at it. The reason for this, however, was not that he was having trouble with minutes and hours - it was the fact that it was after 8:30 PM already and only half an hour to go before it went dark in Harran; and that, so far, Picard had not returned from an errand Brecken had sent him on earlier.

Q sighed nervously and looked around in the apartment that had become some kind of home.

Or rather, a comfortable prison cell.

Sure, the door was unlocked, he was free to leave at any given time - the problem was where to _go_.

Into the hallway outside?

There were people _,_ and Q was not good with people.

It wasn't even really his fault: As an omnipotent being, initiating and ending a conversation was done on _his_ terms entirely - something that did not work in Harran or with humans in general. If they wanted to talk, they wanted to talk, and there was very little one could do to stop them once they'd started.

At least if one lacked the power of the Q.

Q knew that every single torturous human moment he had gone through in the past few weeks was all part of his punishment: He was _supposed_ to be not only trapped in Harran but also in a human body that was as dysfunctional as the city, at least by Q's standards -

A loud knock on the door almost made him jump and for a moment he was relieved that Picard had finally returned... until he remembered that the good captain had a key and didn't need to knock.

He stood up from the couch, walked up to the door, opened it - and wished he hadn't. In front of him stood Kyle Crane, an expression on his face that Q had never thought he'd ever see: Sympathy.

"I came to tell you something."

"What is it?" Q asked cautiously.

"It's Picard," Crane said. "He was supposed to pick up some supplies from a Safe Zone. He never arrived there."

Q stared at Crane's bearded face, the words barely registering. "What... what happened?"

"I'm not sure. I traced the most likely route that he took but there are literally dozens of ways to get to that Safe Zone. I found only this." Crane reached behind his back and pulled out the katana that Picard had been given by Brecken a few days after they had moved into their apartment.

There was blood all over it.

Q stared at it, his mind reeling.

"I searched the immediate vicinity of the place where I found it but there was nothing, except for an entire bunch of Infected."

"Is... is that _his_... blood?" Q stammered.

"I don't know."

"Where did you find it?"

"Near the train yard Safe Zone - if that means anything to you."

Q said nothing.

Crane shifted uncomfortably. "Look man, I'm sorry -"

"It's alright," Q suddenly heard himself say although he had no idea how or why. "I'll take this if you don't mind."

Crane shrugged and handed him the katana. "Sure. Again, sorry. Picard was a good man."

Q nodded absent-mindedly, closed the door, walked back into the apartment and stopped in front of the couch. He stared at the katana and the dried blood, unable to process what it all meant - until a sudden wave of despair, loss and terror hit him.

Jean-Luc.

Dead.

Or _worse_.

No.

It _couldn't_ be.

Surely the Continuum would intervene...?!

They _had_ to!

Q looked up at the ceiling, expecting to see someone or at least hear a voice  - but there was nothing out of the ordinary, and the only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.


	11. Chapter 11

A loud roll of thunder outside woke Q up. He sat up on the couch, momentarily disoriented until he realized that he must have fallen asleep at some point after Crane had left.

_'Wonderful. Trust a human body to fail right in the middle of a crisis.'_

He slowly stood up from the couch and looked at the clock on the wall: It was 1.15 AM.

_'At least I didn't sleep all through the night.'_

He rubbed his tired eyes and then his gaze fell on the katana that he had put on the couch table earlier, right next to the map of Harran that Picard had spread out there a few days ago when he and Brecken had gone over possible locations for additional Safe Zones.

_'Why did he involve himself in all this, anyway? What **is** it with him wanting to help all the time? Look at what it got him!'_

Q frowned - anger was the last emotion he had expected from himself.

But... was it really anger?

_'Come on - you know he only accepted Brecken's offer because he knew you wouldn't make it out there on the streets. He did it so that **you** could be safe. It's **your** fault that he's dead.'_

Q sat down on the couch and clenched his hands into fists, refusing to believe what his mind had just told him. Who said Picard was dead? The blood on the katana didn't mean anything, and the fact that there didn't seem to be a body also suggested that something else had happened.

But... what?

An exhausted Picard, bleeding and weak, backed into a corner by a bunch of Infected, calmly accepting his inevitable fate -

_'No!'_

Q jumped up from the couch and ran his hands through his hair. Human imagination was not something he had come to enjoy in the past few weeks - it had a way of bringing up certain facts about his feelings for Picard - and all he wanted was to use his powers to distract himself before things became completely unbearable. However, here he was, helpless against a merciless onslaught of horrifying mental images of Picard dying; or worse, _not_ really dying and staggering through the streets of Harran as a mindless zombie instead...

He banged his fist against his forehead.

_'I **have** to know what happened.'_

He glanced at the window against which rain was now pouring and sat down on the couch again, reached out his hand, took the katana from the table and then looked at the map on which the train yard Safe Zone that Crane had mentioned had been clearly marked.

How hard could it be to get there and take a look around?


	12. Chapter 12

' _Maybe this was not such a good idea after all_ ,' Q thought and pressed himself against the roof railing of the low building onto which he had somehow managed to climb after a rather exhausting run from the Tower that had involved another hellish elevator ride, a lot of yelling from people who had tried to stop him and then, finally, quite a few streets filled with Infected through which he had been forced to sneak since his climbing skills still left a lot to be desired.

And yet, despite all these odds, he had managed to end up where he was now, right next to the train yard... and without any idea as to what to do next because he had never thought this far ahead.

_'Jean-Luc would scold me for being so incredibly foolish, I'm sure.'_

He raised his hand and wiped the rain off his face - human bodies were even _more_ irritating when wet! - and peered over the railing and at the train tracks below, cursing the fact that the train yard wasn't as well-lit as he had expected it to be. Human eyes were not made for darkness, which was why he had brought a flashlight that, unfortunately, had turned out to be unreliable since he had been forced to switch it off again and again due to its habit of attracting Infected.

But still, the Infected weren't the worst problem: Ever since Q had left the Tower he had had a feeling of... well... _something_ being out here. He had not forgotten the warnings about going outside at night, but, in true Q fashion, he hadn't taken them very seriously. _  
_

The sound of breaking glass and angry hissing from below made him snap to attention. He stood up and leaned over the railing in order to find out what had upset the Infected, who, until now, had simply been standing there - and almost yelped when he saw what was happening: A heavy creature was walking by, pushing the Infected aside. It was huge, its shoulders broad and its naked skin ripped in countless places. Spikes had grown out of its back and its jaw seemed to have been broken and then ripped apart, making it look even more menacing.

A Volatile.

Q didn't dare move in any way - if that thing looked up and saw him...

Better not think of that.

The Volatile, however, seemed unaware of the possible meal nearby. It walked past, following the train tracks until it vanished into the darkness.

Q breathed a sigh of relief and then eyed his surroundings once more. He knew he had to move on, the Infected below were getting more and more restless - and besides, he had a train yard to search.

He swung his legs over the railing, sat down on it for a moment and eyed a balcony below that was almost on ground level.

_'How much of a fall can human legs handle?'_

He shook his head - no use to speculate, he had to get off the roof _somehow_ \- and slid down the railing, fell for a few agonizing moments and then landed on the balcony without incident.

The Infected - now very much next to him - froze for a second when they heard the noise and then began to move towards him. Q quickly swung himself over the balcony's railing and had just broken into a run when he suddenly heard an inhuman roar that was so terrifying that it made him freeze in mid-movement.

He turned his head and found himself looking directly into the hollow eyes of the Volatile that had appeared from behind an abandoned train car.

It had been waiting for him. _  
_

Q wheeled around and ran away while the Volatile roared again - no doubt alerting others of its kind - before it came after him. Q could hear its heavy breathing after only a few meters and realized he would not be able to outrun it, he wasn't even close to being fast enough -

"Hey! Over here!"

He almost stopped when he heard the familiar voice that appeared to have come from further ahead.

Picard!

He wasn't dead!

Q ran into the direction of the voice, the Volatile still gaining on him - he almost felt its rotten breath on his neck - and then he saw Picard. The captain was standing in the doorway of a train car that, right now, looked like the safest place in all of Harran.

The entity put his last bit of strength into the few meters that separated him from the train car and then he reached it, jumped onto it and squeezed himself through the door. Picard slid it shut behind him immediately, and a few milliseconds later the Volatile began to bang its head (or fists?) against the door from the outside.

"Please tell me that thing can't get in here!" Q yelled, breathing heavily.

There was no answer.

Q reached for his flashlight, switched it on and swung it around in the pitch-black darkness of the train car. It took him a few seconds to locate Picard, who had sat down on a dirty mattress next to the door. He was leaning against the wall, his eyes were closed and his left arm was pointing away from his body in a strange angle, his face was bruised and wet with sweat and his clothes were covered in mud.

Q forgot about the door against which the Volatile still kept banging and walked over to Picard. "Jean-Luc?"

Picard coughed - and fell to the side and onto the mattress.

Q stared at him.

This was not good.

Not good at all.

He knelt down, put the flashlight on the floor, reached for Picard and pulled his upper body into his arms. "Mon capitaine?"

Picard's eyelids fluttered. "Q...?"

"Yes, it's me. What happened?"

A shiver ran through Picard's body - and then he went limp.

"Jean-Luc? _Jean-Luc_!"

 

 

**END OF ACT II**

 


	13. Chapter 13

**ACT III - THE BIG GOODBYE**

 

 

" _Fuck, it's dark in here... are you sure this is the train car his boyfriend said he left him in?"_

_"He marked the place on the map. This has gotta be it."_

_"I don't see anything... give me the flashlight."_

_"There! In the corner!"_

_"Has he turned?"_

_"Nah - he'd be all over us if he had."_

_"Come on, let's get him out of here. This place is giving me the creeps."_

 

 

Darkness.

 

 

_"He looks really messed up. No wonder Lena said she needs him back at the Tower to treat him."_

_"Never mind the effort this is taking, I hope he's worth it to you, Brecken - oh crap, more Virals!"_

_"Shut up, both of you! Assume your positions - don't let them get at him! I don't want for him to be bitten now that we're almost there!"_

 

 

Darkness.

 

 

_"Put him in there. He needs rest."_

_"Is he conscious?"_

_"I don't think so... unless you ignored my advice and didn't hit him with the highest dosage before you left the Safe Zone."_

_"I did exactly as you told me."  
_

_"Well then he should be fine."_

_"What are we going to do with his boyfriend? He keeps nagging at me that he wants to see him."_

_"I'd let him in here, but he's such a pain in the ass with his attitude, I can't deal with this shit right now. Tell him to come back in a few hours."_

 

 

Darkness.

A voice.

"Mon capitaine? Can you hear me?"

Go towards the voice.

Picard slowly opened his eyes - and looked directly into an omnipotent face. "Q...?" he croaked, his voice as weak as he felt, the world around him as shaky as his sight appeared to be.

"I thought you'd never wake up!"

"Where... where... am I...?" Picard tried to blink repeatedly, but the strange feeling of his entire body being stuck in some kind of dense cloud didn't vanish.

"Tower. Sickbay - or whatever they think counts as one. They have this horrible doctor here, I swear she's even worse than Crusher and _that_ takes something -"

"He's awake?" a female voice suddenly interrupted. "I told you to inform me immediately when this happens!"

"Sorry!" Q shot back. "I just thought it would be nice if he saw a familiar face first!"

"He has done so now - which means you can go."

"Who are _you_ to give me orders?" Q complained.

"I'm in charge here, and unless you want to spend the rest of the day unconscious I suggest you get the fuck out of here right now."

Q glared in the direction of the voice but then slowly stood up from the chair on which he had been sitting and walked away.

"Finally," the voice sighed and then the woman it belonged to came into Picard's field of vision and sat down on the chair. "Welcome back to the land of the living dead."

Picard blinked again. "What... what..."

"Don't try to talk," she said gently. "It's a miracle you're awake in the first place - the dosage I gave you was enough to knock out an elephant."

"Do... dosage?"

"Painkillers. The really good stuff." She adjusted the pillow behind Picard's head. "You're really damn lucky, you know that? If your boyfriend hadn't gotten you the help you needed you'd probably have ended up as a rotten corpse in that train car."

Picard opened his mouth in order to say something else, but neither his voice nor his brain seemed to be willing to do so.

"As I said, don't try to talk. Don't worry about the painkillers, they're _supposed_ to make you drowsy so that you rest and your body can heal, especially that shoulder of yours. It was quite a challenge to relocate it - it's definitely gonna be sore for a few weeks."

She looked back at Picard, whose vision had begun to blur even more, and, before he could even try not to, his eyes had closed again and he felt himself drifting back into darkness.

"Have a good sleep. You need it."


	14. Chapter 14

"Mon capitaine?"

Picard slowly opened his eyes and blinked rapidly.

A waving hand appeared in his field of vision. "Are you there?"

"What...?"

"You are." The hand was taken away and replaced by a familiar face.

"Q...?" Picard tried to sit up but was pushed back down almost immediately.

"No, no, no. That terrible doctor made it quite clear to me that you're supposed to stay right where you are."

Picard looked at Q and was pleased to discover that his vision was much better than it had been the last time he had woken up. "What... what exactly happened?"

"Don't you remember? The train car? The Volatile?"

"Vaguely," Picard muttered while his mind tried to put the pieces together - and then he suddenly sat up straight and pushed Q's hand away, ignoring the pain this caused in his left shoulder. "That Volatile was chasing _you_! Why were _you_ there?!"

"I came to look for you after you had gone missing."

"What?" Picard stared at the entity, his words only slowly registering. "You mean you went out _alone_? At _night_? Q, you could have been _killed_!"

"Is that your way of saying thank you? If so, I'm not impressed."

Picard sank back into his pillow, breathing heavily. "Why didn't you wait until morning? You could have told Brecken or Crane -"

"Oh come on, neither of them would have gone anywhere with me," Q said gruffly. "I had to do this on my own or not at all."

"And almost sacrifice yourself in the process...?!"

"Don't be so melodramatic." Q leaned back on his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "You should be grateful instead - if I hadn't come to get you, no one would ever have found you in that train car. How did you end up in there, anyway?"

"Mostly by coincidence," Picard admitted, relieved about the change of subject - an argument with Q was the last thing he felt up to at this point. "A roof gave in when I jumped on it. I fell and dislocated my shoulder. The noise attracted Virals, so I ran away. Unfortunately, I lost my katana soon after that... and then I saw that train car and thought I'd hide in there and also rest for a while, but the pain became too much..." He coughed. "Do you have a glass of water somewhere?"

"Sure." Q reached over to the bedside table, took the glass of water that was on it and handed it to Picard.

"Thank you." Picard emptied the glass - not without wincing at the recurring pain in his left shoulder - and then handed it back to Q. "How long am I going to have to stay in this bed?"

"That doctor didn't say, and I didn't ask. We're not exactly friends, you know."

Picard smiled - and then he suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness washing over him. "Oh... I think I..."

"What is it?" Q asked worriedly and put the glass back on the bedside table.

"I'm tired all of a sud-"

Before he could say anything else, he had fallen asleep.

"I was afraid this would happen," Lena said from behind and put down the bag that she had had with her on the 'house call' she had just returned from. "He was on high-dosage painkillers for three days. Those meds take their toll." She walked over, took her stethoscope, placed it on Picard's bare chest and listened. "Sounds normal enough... except for one thing."

Q frowned. "What?"

"I've noticed this before - his heartbeat has a strange echo." Lena put the stethoscope away. "If It didn't know better, I'd say his heart is mechanical in some way. But then that's bullshit, right?"

Q tried to look as innocuous as he possibly could before he answered. "Umm, yes. Absolutely."


	15. Chapter 15

 

Picard slowly opened his eyes and - again - found himself looking at Q. This time the entity did not bombard him him with questions, however - he was fast asleep on a chair next to the bed, and it took Picard a few moments to realize that this was not the only thing that was different: He was no longer in what the Tower considered to be a sickbay, he was sitting in his and Q's bed in their apartment, carefully propped up against the wall by soft pillows. On the bedside table to his right (and well within reach of his good arm) was a plate with a sandwich and a cup of tea next to it. Picard's stomach growled at the sight of the sandwich, so he reached out, took it, ate it quickly - and almost dropped the small cup when he tasted the cold tea he had planned to drink to wash the food down.

It was Earl Grey.

The taste brought memories of the Enterprise, and Picard wondered once more just _how_ much longer Q and he would have to endure Harran.

' _We were both almost killed,'_ he thought grudgingly. _'What more does the Q Continuum want from us?"_

Before he could pursue the thought any further, Q stirred on his chair and opened his eyes, a pained expression on his tired face.

"Ow... this chair..." He looked at Picard. "Oh. You're awake."

Picard smiled a little sheepishly and put the now empty tea cup on the bedside table. "I woke up only a few minutes ago. Thank you for the tea and the sandwich."

"It wasn't easy to get Earl Grey in this hellhole."

"I appreciate it." Picard adjusted his position and winced when his shoulder protested by sending a sharp pain through his entire body.

"How bad is it?" Q asked. "The pain, I mean."

"It's managable."

"I would hope so, given what they've put you through with all these atrocious painkillers."

"They _do_ seem to have helped, I'm feeling much better." Picard's face became serious. "Q, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"About why you came after me."

"You aren't going to let this one go, are you?"

"No - because I need to understand. From what I've put together so far, you went out in the middle of the night, right into into a city filled with ravaging zombies and a few even worse creatures, and the only things you had with you were a flashlight and a katana you had no idea how to handle. In short, you risked your life on my behalf, which, frankly, is rather uncharacteristic for you, human or not." Picard sighed. "I simply fail to see your usually rather twisted logic behind such an utterly foolish course of action."

Q shook his head. "It's so typical of you to look for logic when emotions are the issue."

Picard frowned. "I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. You never have." Q slowly got up from his chair, walked up to the window and pulled the orange curtains back, letting morning sunlight into the room.

"Q...?"

"Would you just let me _think_ for a second?" the entity scoffed. "I'm not as good as you are at giving speeches."

Picard frowned again but this time did not say anything.

Q looked out of the window. "Maybe it really _is_ time for me to tell you something I've been dreading to tell you for a long time - even by Q standards."

He turned around and faced Picard.

"I love you, Jean-Luc. That's why I came after you, and that's also why I picked you as my companion for this whole adventure even though I knew being turned into a human would take me to brink of suicide if I wasn't careful."

Picard stared at the haggard man in front of him who had so incredibly little in common with the omnipotent con man in a Starfleet uniform he had gotten to know. "Q... I... I... don't know what to say...."

"Now _that's_ a first," Q muttered. "If I had known that this admission would make you shut up, I'd have made it a long time ago."

"Q, please - stop mocking your feelings."

"What other choice is there for me but to mock them?" Q asked bitterly. "I'm an immortal being, an omnipotent trickster - 'next of kin to chaos', as you yourself have called me. For _me_ to have something as ridiculous as feelings for a mere human is nothing but laughable."

Picard shook his head, ignoring the pain this caused in his shoulder. "As much as I don't understand why you'd choose _me_ of all people, being in love is _nothing_ to be ashamed of."

"The Continuum would beg to differ."

"Since when are _you_ concerned about what the Continuum thinks?"

Q shrugged and then looked at Picard with a slight smile. "You know, mon capitaine, I expected an entirely different reaction from you."

"Oh?"

"Yes... one more along the lines of 'this still doesn't excuse you bringing me here against my will'. And yet here you are in our bed, injured and exhausted, telling me in your softest voice that I should just accept my feelings for you."

"I'm a little baffled by myself as well right now," Picard admitted.

"Looks like we're in the same boat, then."

"Apparently so."

They looked at each other, neither of them knowing what to say when suddenly a bright flash lit up the world around them.

Picard almost lost his balance - he was standing all of a sudden, and he was doing so in an entirely different environment: He was in his quarters aboard the Enterprise, the pain in his shoulder was gone and the chronometer on his desk showed the exact time and date of the night on which he had gone to bed before he had woken up on that street in Harran.

The only thing that looked slightly out of place was a certain katana in his hand.

"Q?" he asked cautiously.

There was no answer.

 

**END OF ACT III  
**

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**EPILOGUE**

 

 

Picard walked into his quarters after a rather unsettling shift - rumor had it there was some sort of trouble on Romulus - and was so deep in thought that he almost bumped into a chair that had suddenly appeared right in his path.

Q, who was sitting on that very chair, raised his hand in greeting. "Bonsoir, mon capitaine."

Picard tensed even more. "Q."

"What's wrong? You really don't seem thrilled to see me alive and well."

Picard sighed. "I _am_ relieved, I just have something else on my mind."

"Romulus?"

"Yes - but I'm sure it's of no concern to you."

"You're right, it's not." Q stretched his long legs. "Don't you want to know what I've been up to in the past few weeks?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me all about it, whether I want to hear it or not," Picard said dryly.

Q shook his head and then glanced at the door to Picard's bedroom. "I saw that you hung up the katana on the wall in there. Why the bedroom, of all places?"

Picard leaned against his desk. "I wanted to avoid unnecessary questions about why I suddenly keep a katana in my quarters, and since my bedroom is the only room I don't tend to grant my crew access to..."

"You could just have thrown it into your closet," Q remarked.

"I could, yes. But, given the memories that are attached to it..."

"I didn't think you'd find them pleasant."

"I _did_ meet quite a few spirited people in Harran."

"Like Harris Brecken."

Picard frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He gave you that katana _and_ you two shared something... well, special."

"You know...?"

"Of _course_ I know, now that I'm omnipotent again." Q stood up from the chair. "I had absolutely no idea during our time in Harran, however."

"There wasn't really anything between us," Picard said quickly. "It was more a mutual understanding of the burdens of leadership."

"But you ended up in bed one evening."

"Q..."

"Oh, it's alright. I understand the need for intimacy much better now that I went through some of it myself."

Picard sighed. "Can we get to the point, please? I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about my time with Harris Brecken, or did you?"

"Definitely not. I'm here to give you the entire story, now that I can. You _do_ deserve an explanation."

"I _deserve_ an explanation? Now that's a statement I thought I'd never hear from you."

"I have my moments of weakness," Q retorted - and then froze.

"What is it?"

"This isn't the right place - we're both too used to yelling at each other in here."

"What do you me-"

A bright flash and Picard found himself in a familiar spot: Q and he were standing on the roof of Harran's Tower, looking down at the city and its bay below. A sudden panic grabbed him - _not again!_ \- but it only lasted the few seconds that it took him to notice that both Q and he were still wearing Starfleet uniforms.

"Q, what -"

"Don't worry, Jean-Luc, we won't be here for very long. I also made sure no one is going to disturb us like they used to whenever you came up here to be alone."

"They had a way of doing that," Picard agreed and then looked at Q. "So... what is this explanation that you wanted to give me?"

"I love how you always get straight to the point." Q folded his arms across his chest. "The short version is that I was punished, chose you as a companion for my punishment and then, once it was over, I got my powers back."

"A few weeks here in Harran? That was all?"

"You're thinking in far too linear terms - the concept of time has no meaning to us Q, remember? Besides, the Continuum was after something else entirely: They wanted a certain course of action from me."

Picard thought for a moment before he answered. "The only significant course of action I remember you taking was risking your life for me that one night."

Q shook his head. "That wasn't it - I've done this 'sacrificing myself for Picard and his crew while being human' thing before. It's nothing new."

"Then what was it?" Picard pressed.

"The confession, of course."

"You mean..." Picard cleared his throat. "That you... you..."

"That I love you, yes." Q looked at him. "You can say it, you know?"

Picard cleared his throat once more. "I... umm... I don't understand what good that confession did. As you yourself told me, the Continuum isn't very fond of Q falling in love with mortal beings, so why would they encourage a confession like this?"

"You don't know what bottled up feelings can do to a Q."

Picard frowned. "Wait... you mean... the behavior you spoke of, the one they punished you for by sending you here... you did that because of your feelings for me?"

"Not intentionally, but... yes."

"But the Continuum couldn't know you'd pick me as your companion for your punishment. The entire thing would have been meaningless if you had chosen someone else."

Q rolled his eyes. "Really, mon capitaine, both we and the Continuum know there's no one who'd help me the way _you_ would. As much as you hate to admit it - I'm not exactly unimportant to you."

Picard took a deep breath. "Why did they choose a place like Harran? Why didn't they simply throw us into a completely snowed-in house in Earth's Rocky Mountains or something like that?"

"Because additional obstacles to overcome together make the desired confession even more heartfelt."

"What if I had been killed before you could say anything?"

"I'd have been forced to live out the rest of my human life here in Harran," Q said and looked down at the city. "There's no way the Continuum would have given me my powers back - I'm sure you can imagine to at least _some_ degree what a heartbroken Q is capable of doing."

"I'm not sure I want to," Picard muttered and looked down as well. "What's going to happen to Harran now? Will it still be a Q Continuum punishment zone?"

"No, but it won't cease to exist either, I made sure of that. I knew it would be important to you."

"What about the virus?"

"They'll eventually find a cure."

"I'm relieved to hear that."

"I was hoping you would be."

They both continued to look down at the city until Picard spoke up again. "You know, Q... there's _one_ thing you haven't asked me."

"Oh? What's that?"

"How I feel about you now that I know how you feel about me. Is it because you know the answer already?"

"I don't have to read your thoughts if that's what you mean." Q looked at Picard. "As severely tempted as you might be, you're too convinced that order cannot love chaos."

Picard looked back at him. "True. But here? In this place? Who knows what might have happened."

Q frowned. "I wonder what it says about us that it took a zombie-infested city and the constant threat of death to make us realize that we can manage to have a normal conversation."

"I guess it means we both have rather strong personalities."

"You could say that." Q looked back down at the city. "Strange... now that I can leave here anytime I suddenly no longer want to, at least not now."

Picard followed his gaze. "Neither do I, actually."

"We... umm... we could simply... umm... stay up here for a little while longer?"

"I wouldn't mind."

They looked at each other again and then back down at the City of Harran below whose roofs were bathed in sunlight and maybe - just maybe - also a little hope.

  


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